The Sunrise I Almost Missed

How indecision keeps us from the good stuff—and what to do instead

Are you much of a sunrise person?

I will happily admit to you that I am not. I like to prioritize my sleep and have come to terms with being more of a sunset watcher.

Every so often though, I wake earlier than usual and find that I have the opportunity to catch the start of a new day. On one of these recent rare occasions, I cracked my eyes open just as the horizon was starting to lighten and shot out of bed to make the most of it.

Instead of just heading out to the front of our floating home to soak in the moment, however, my overactive planning brain took over. I needed to “get ready” to watch the sunrise so it would feel like a perfect experience.

The debate began:
How early should I head outside?
Do I have time to start a pot of coffee?
Where should I sit?
Is it dewy; do I need to bring a towel to dry off the space?
How about the weather? Is it chilly enough for a sweater in the tropics?

I bounced around these questions and took on a set of reasonably nonvalue-added tasks before finally heading outside.

In this back and forth, minutes ticked by and, by the time I was settled (no to coffee, yes to sweater), the show had well begun and I missed my very favorite part of the sunrise—when the sky turns a delicious dark pink before things really start to get light.

Still beautiful, but I was left a little frustrated with myself for the overthinking I’d done.

This experience left me thinking about indecision.

How often in my life do I dither back and forth on something before finally moving forward, only to find I’ve botched the timing because of my delays? Maybe it still works, but not as well. Maybe it becomes stressful from rushing to catch up and the joy is gone. Worst case, the moment is passed, and the idea is now a no-go.

In the case of the sunrise, my indecision about creating the “perfect” moment cost me the actual perfection. I still saw the rest of the rise, but I wished I’d stopped overthinking and just gotten down to watching sooner. There’s something to be said for those moments when you simply do. When you don’t overthink.

I read somewhere that indecision stifles enthusiasm. I was struck by the simplicity of that idea and how true it is for me. I’ve seen indecision chip away at enthusiasm in my professional life too.

I second-guess whether a piece I’ve written is right for this forum.
I overthink whether to reach out to a former colleague to reconnect.
I talk myself into and out of pitching my services for various opportunities.

Indecision can really take the fun out of the work I’ve been doing. And that’s a shame, because the work is objectively fun. It’s challenging, yes—but building Beyond the Break and exploring life beyond the 9–5 has been exciting and has stretched my brain in satisfying ways.

This kind of indecision can be damaging beyond just missing a moment. Research links indecision to anxiety, negativity, and increased self-doubt. And if enthusiasm suffers, it makes sense. Indecision and joy can’t really coexist.

And here’s the thing: most of the time, indecision isn’t about the decision itself. It’s about the fear of making the wrong one. We tie ourselves in knots looking for the “perfect” path, as if we only get one shot. But the truth is, very few decisions are permanent.

Some decisions are one-way doors, sure. But most are two-way. We can choose, see how it feels, and pivot if we need to. We gather better data as we go. And with that new insight, we can shift course. What’s important is that we start.

The sunrise wasn’t going to wait for me. Neither will life’s opportunities. That doesn’t mean we should rush, but it does mean we can recognize when hesitation isn’t helping and instead is just holding us back from getting to the good stuff.

Lately, I’ve been paying closer attention to the questions I ask myself when I’m stuck. Are they rooted in curiosity or fear? Are they helping me move forward, or keeping me in a loop of self-doubt?

Instead of:
“What if this doesn’t go well?”
I try:
“What’s one small step I can take to test this out?”

Instead of:
“Will they think I’m annoying if I reach out?”
I ask:
“What’s the kindest, clearest way I can say hello again?”

This subtle shift turns the volume down on fear and puts the focus back on something within my control—my next step. Our job isn’t to have it all figured out. Our job is to begin, to be brave enough to choose, and flexible enough to adjust.

So the next time I feel myself hesitating, maybe I’ll remember that sunrise—and just go sit down outside. No coffee, no towel, no debate. Just presence.

The good stuff doesn’t wait forever.

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Hi, I’m Ashley. I write Beyond the Break—a space for women navigating career transitions with intention, honesty, and heart. Through storytelling and reflection, I explore what it really means to build a sustainable, meaningful relationship with work.

What do you need to do to take the indecision out of your moments? To move forward and catch the good stuff? I’d love to hear about it. Start a conversation in the chat or send me a message.